Race: Human
Age: unknown
Residence: Northen Wastes
Profession: Plague Herald
Religion: Nurgle
Allies: The Crow Tribe, Wolf Brothers, The Plague Court, Blood Legion.
Enemies: Mainly Tzeentch followers, the Empire and whoever is deaf on Nurgle's Call.
Personality: Expansive, joyful, yet a limbo of entropy and despair. Enthusiast and positive in all manners. Can easily fall in anger in some circumstances. Unlike other Nurgle's followers, He retain a lot of his mortal behavior, which translates his ego being part of a great scheme in Nurgle's name. Joy and sorrow are both visible in his glowing eyes, while the stench of rot please him like a fine flavor of life. Quite unstable during raining days and violent storms.
Brief history:
Little is known concerning the child coming from a northern tribe, the tribe of the Crow, who became the Plague Herald.
He was born like many northmen, at the shadow of the Gods. His tribe , The Tribe of the Crow, taught him regard their beloved patron, the Lord of Death. A God which resembles the circle of life and death, purifying his dominions with plagues and rot. That tribe, mostly unknown between the civilized empire citizens, believed that the dead are to be buried in shallow graves to allow the Death God to send a murder of crows to dispose of the victim's body and get his soul to his domain. Such was a honor amongst his tribe, and if in some cases a body would not be reclaimed, that means that the restless soul is forced to come back as a spirit, seeking the favor of his patron and plea for his sins to be forgiven. Another tribe believing was that when specific plague was released amongst the mortal realm, they pledged their god for assure that such disease would bless them, showing fanatical devotion to the Death Lord. Plagues and diseases are displayed as a blessing of their patron god, and is not rare that many of the newborn childs are mutated in horrors who can easily shock the most hardened empire veteran. The boy in question was named by his mother Drak-nalath (born from the sickness, in their language) because his mother died while the child came to life due to a virulent disease who left her child marked in his front: a tri-sided skull with rotten flesh, but asking his mother's life in return.
His tribe recognized the favor of their god and raised the child as all the marauders, but his father never forgave him for such unwanted bargain. When the kid was 10, He was thought about the tribe religion and warfare, about life and death, and the first trials were undertaken by his comrades too. A week outside the village in a muddy swamp, surviving only with their very hands and their skin to defend against the intense cold. They were forced to eat the rotten corpses of the wild beasts inhabiting the area in order to survive. Of the 20 childs sent, only 5 survived. At 14 Drak.nalath was sent to serve his tribe's shaman to understand the pratique of the death and life. While the surviving childs fathers joyfully cheered at their bellowed, Drak-nalath father always refused him such satisfaction, threading him like the cause of his woe. The seeds of delusion were deeply planted in the boy's hearth.
Drak-nalath at 16, sketch taken from the explorer's league Library, private quarters in Altdorf, source unknown
At 16, finally, He was sent to his first deed to earn the respect of both his father and his tribe: assault an enemy village nearby and claim it for Nurgleth. That village was the village of the Wolf's Brother. The attack commenced at dawn. So great was the strife that the Death Lord himself protected his beloved son from harm, sending insects and flies to his aid against his enemies. One by one, the warriors of the Wolf's tribe were killed, no quarter was given. The astaroth attracted also many beast men from nearby Nurgleth monolith, forcing em to obey at their's Master's call. At the end of the fight only the chieftain was the last survivor, holding the body of his son ripen apart, and pledged for life in return to submission. Drak-nalath ,the tales says, advanced between his fellow tribesmen and, taking the maul from his father's hands, crushed the skull of the pledging tribesman. his father ordered him to never disobey him, spitting all the buried hatred in his heart in front of his tribe. Drak-nalath coldly replied "I answer only to the Crow God" and left the encampment.
The tribe of the Crow stands triumphant in front of their enemies
On his way home the boy met a hooded figure who asked his attention just to warn him concerning his matters at his tribe: disobeying to his father in Nurgleth's name was an act of respect to his God, but condemned him to death in the eyes of his tribe. His voice was joyful and enthusiast, yet his manners betrayed a crippled body, surrounded by flies and other insects lurking beneath his very hand flesh.
The boy demanded to the hooded, flies surrounded figure how He knew all those matters and who He was, but not a coherent reply was given, only a blabber laugh. Altered by rage for the reaction, the boy attacked the figure, his maul shattered the body in nothing but thousand insects who swarmed through his body right into his mouth, clearing a way to his guts while a mad laugh pierced his mucous ears.
No one was there to report the scene, yet the shamans tells that an unreal howl was heard in the forest and many of em rolled on the floor spitting pus from their mouth while pledging their God for release.
That night Drak-nalath's father was waiting for his son into his tent. No news came about his finding in the earlier days. Submerged by the pain of loosing his son before the initiation ritual, his father pledged to Nurgleth a form to relieve his pain against the son who he loved and hated at same time, bringer of joy and sorrow, pride and woe.
At dawn, the warlord heard screams coming all over from his tribe tents and understood that His God heard His plea.
Getting hastly out from his tent, he saw his men, women and child on the ground, rotting in pain of an unknown plague. The Lord of Death blessed them with a special gift: the gift of eternal relief. The destructive plague. The never-ending rot.
Emergin from the forest, the young warrior looked with his red eyes at the one who was once his father; then a scream raised to the sky, sealing the pact of despair and agony who was dwelled in the boy's hearth all these years: Scarnavax, the Herald of Plagues and rot was born. Blessed by his patron and strong of thousands of sicknesses, Scarnavax advanced quietly to his father. The rotten corpses of the wolf tribe were raised as undead plague bearers to escort Scarnavax blessed body. When the two warriors were one in front of the other, a swarm of insects surrounded em. No on knows what happened. After few minutes all flies flied away and the tribe raised on his feet, the pain gone, as well as woe and despair. Only a wave of joy, pride and rot was left behind. The blessing of Nurgleth was descent upon his tribe. Scarnavax's father was horribly mutated in a spawn of Nurgle, named Sle'zuzu, which follow his Master up to this day, feasting on corpses and spreading even more plagues as the normal servants of Nurgle do.
Sle'zuzu, once the father of Scarnavax
In the subsequent years the warrior led his tribe of mutated pestilent horrors in a war to integrate huis force and expand disease and Nurgleth's dominion amongst the nordsmen, spreading war and sickness in the fuse of a carnival like phaeton. his army was named the Plague Court, so was much favorite from his God in spreading his will.
The last registered fight was when He was given a chaos armor ripped off from the skeletal body of Valnir the Reaper, found in the very hearth of chaos wastes while was decomposing in front of a rotten tree. The fruits were full of maggots and Scarnavax heard a tangible aura of rot and despair emanating from it. Strong of his faith, the man raised his hand and ate a fruit. His skin erupted totally, the chaos armor sealed around his body and became receptacle of even amore fatal disease: the destructive plague of Nurgle's Rot.
Some time after this event, the Warrior tribe moved sour up to the inevitable city, integrating a quarter of that town to the Plague Lord dominion. Not much time passed before Scarnavax heard the call of his Patron for a mission. He must unite his force with the Dark Elfs of Blood legion, as well as some green skins too, to accomplish his Master's Bidding. He met Sarrik, a young Dark elf in the Inevitable city embassy and then sailed with hi, leaving all his army behind as his God ordered him. His contribution to the cause unknown. His dialogue with Sarrik joyful yet harsh and full of mystery. When he reachd the Blighted Isles, Scarnavax felt a nausea for such land, stating that "was not enough blessed by Nurgleth". A war council was held to integrate the new Chosen into the army and present him amongst his members.
Up to now no plague or illness was registered amongst his members, which shows what kind of power over the plagues has Scarnavax. One thing is sure: when the Lord of Decay decree a fate, sooner o later that will happen.
The rotten warriors of the Crow's Tribe charging in battle
"You call me fool? you fell yourself powerful? Look around you. All is fated to rot and decompose. No one is absent from this law. Not even the God's themselves. I bring a real truth. I am the Herald of all the Plagues. I am the eternal host of His will. Cower in fear or hide in your bastions. The time is my ally and will show you the dance of rot."
for the glory of Nurgle!
